


My verdant wind

by Assasymphonie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, I WAS ROBBED, I love them so much, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, Pre-Time Skip, they deserve this love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assasymphonie/pseuds/Assasymphonie
Summary: “Awesome! I swear, just for a little… I know it’s very late but it seems you’re putting an all nighter like me, and some time outside the walls is refreshing.”
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	My verdant wind

“Teach, can I borrow you for a moment?”  
Claude’s voice fills the library, where Byleth was immersed in a book -Ashe’s raccomendation, and he’s just at the moment where the knight is going to kill the enemy-, all alone with just a candle near his face and glasses on the bridge of his nose.  
Despite that he nods, grabbing the bookmark Hilda gifted to him and placing it in the middle of the book.

He’s wearing his usual clothes but without the heavy armour and, of course, the long coat. His shoulders are free, and so it is his waist and hands; a casual look for a casual evening, and it mirrors in Claude’s outfit with just a loose beige shirt and a pair of dark brown pants.  
He’s rewarded with a smile on Claude’s face, dazzling in the dim light of the library. He’s truly happy, Byleth can surely say that.

“Awesome! I swear, just for a little… I know it’s very late but it seems you’re putting an all nighter like me, and some time outside the walls is refreshing.”

To tell the truth, Claude was not putting an all nighter to study or something so productive: he was basically screaming in his pillow to find the courage to ask Byleth such a simple thing. It’s not new to Claude that himself, the mighty von Riegan, the most skilled bowman in entire Fòdlan, fell over the heels for that quiet, misterious and sometimes strange mercenary with eyes deep as the ocean.

They walk into the corridors side by side, not talking but eyeing at each other; a soft and small smile on Byleth’s lips, a bubbling laughter into Claude’s throat, some winks here and there.  
Seeing them from the outside, someone might say that they are a couple sneaking out in the middle of the night to do the Goddess knows what, and that alone for Claude is the most hilarious thing.

He knows, deep into his heart, that he doesn’t have a single chance with his professor. Not alone he seems so distant towards the world itself, but Claude is deadly sure he doesn’t want him.  
Maybe he’s straight, or maybe he has a lover already, or maybe he doesn’t need an outsider like him, a literal half breed unwanted by both sides. And he doesn’t mind, really, because if it’s that the case Byleth is perfectly right.  
In spite of it tho, a small part of Claude’s heart is trembling with hope; since Byleth didn’t say anything and simply followed him, maybe he has the rights to hope that he’s somehow interested?  
Even for a night, at this point Claude really doesn’t mind.  
It’s a least something, since everytime he’s interested in someone it ends like this. But, deeper, he knows that Byleth is different from all of the others. He knows that-

“There’s a new soap in the baths?”

The question throws him off from his path and for a brief moment Claude was going to go face against the wall. What in the Heaven’s that question mean? And out of the blue, while they’re trepassing the big gate at the end of the market.  
Byleth seems rather comfortable, his nose a little crinkled like he’s smelling something of interest and he’s approacing Claude neck at a dangerous speed.  
Oh no.  
“W-Why? I smell?!” he mutters, taking the small braid to sniff it before losing himself in Byleth’s eyes.  
He hears the professor laughs softly, really too close for his own good.  
“Not at all. But your scent is…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, much with Claude disappointment, but at the same time he’s quite relieved.  
Outside Garreg Mach, kinda close by the gates, the most giant wheat field runs free as far as the eye can see, touching the sky with green strands. The wheat is not ready to be cropped and it’s a beautiful shade of green, caressed by the wind near the dawn.  
The stars still gleam over their heads but a faint light is slowly peeking out from the mountains.  
It’s the golden hour, that magical moment between the night and the dawn. Claude loves it.

“In the Alliance we have plenty of scenarios like this. It’s kinda special, you know? It’s almost like the breeze and the grass are melting into each other, and it’s cold but there’s hope of warmth with the newborn sun over there.” 

Claude is standing in the middle of the field, hands roaming gently over the wheat like he’s caressing someone’s skin.  
The dawn is casting golden light to his face, making the tanned skin something not of this world. The hair are slowly bouncing into the wind and the smile Byleth is seeing on the other’s full lips is the most sincere Claude ever shown in a year or, maybe, in his entire life. 

The moment Claude fixes his gaze on Byleth tho, the latter almost chokes on himself.  
Those green eyes are so clear, so bright in that light, they’re like the grass they’re touching; young and not ready for the world outside but, at the same time, wiser and older like he had seen a lot more than he wants to admit. His robes are so light, Byleth can see the shape of his body under the cotton.

“… Claude.” He calls, taking few steps towards his student.  
He’s smiling and, for once, he wants to talk. To address something so deep into his heart he didn’t know it’s here until that very moment.  
Or maybe he didn’t want to see it until now.  
He was blind, but he doesn’t want to be like that anymore. Jeralt told him once: live, don’t wait on the edge because no one is waiting for you.

“It wasn’t the soap. It’s you. You smell like… all of this. I love fields, they remind me of when I was little and my… father used to hold me on his shoulders to see where they end and to feel the wind on my face, I love that.”  
Byleth pause, basking into the light that beams from Claude itself.  
“Before I wasn’t sure what you wanted from me. It was strange you asked me to follow you so late in the night. But now I see why. This field is somehow like you. Young but not careless, distant but warm and unique. It’s beautiful, thank you.”

That is something Claude cannot grasp entirely. With every sentence he feels his cheeks go warmer and warmer, his mouth wider and wider until it might snap, but he doesn’t care.  
The sound of the wind is overlapped with the unsteady throb of his heart; it’s roaming into his ears, his head is spinning.

On top of that, Byleth decides to rest his hand right on Claude’s right cheek, and this is the point where the latter loses himself completely.  
He leans, slowly, and Byleth doesn’t push him away. He’s just standing here, while the wind plays with those green hair, that small smile on his slightly parted lips. Looking closer, Claude can see a faint pink blush. 

This is dream. This can’t be real.

But it is and Claude realizes that when he feels Byleth whisper against his lips, into his mouth.  
“Thank you for being the verdant wind I hold so dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love them to death and I still feel robbed  
> also I love the idea of Byleth being the most romantic of the two since Claude is all barks and no bite  
> hope you enjoy it!


End file.
